


sweet hope (ethereal balm upon me shed)

by clawsnbeak



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Mild Praise Kink, Smut, be warned, because ronan worshipping adam is my shit, mentions of bruises/wounds, mild religious themes, the slowest sex scene you have ever read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:01:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21687238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clawsnbeak/pseuds/clawsnbeak
Summary: Your toy is outside.I broke it a little.Oops.-KKavinsky beats up Adam. Adam needs to feel something else than pain. Insert Ronan and the slowest, most careful sex you have ever read.
Relationships: Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 4
Kudos: 236





	sweet hope (ethereal balm upon me shed)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [henriettahoney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/henriettahoney/gifts).



> i want to thank the loveliest beta in actual existence [EmmaLThornwood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmmaLThornwood/pseuds/EmmaLThornwood) for not only encouraging me to be a better writer but also for screaming at me in the comments. i love you so so much and i cannot be more thankful to have you in my life <3

_ Your toy is outside.  _

_ I broke it a little.  _

_ Oops.  _

_ -K _

This wasn’t the first cryptic text Ronan had received from Kavinsky and it sure wasn’t the first text that had made his skin crawl, but there was something about the message that instinctively didn’t feel right. Ronan loathed the power Kavinsky still held over him and he momentarily tried to talk himself out of going outside, told himself that he could just ignore it, that it was just Kavinsky trying to win back the attention Ronan had once given him when he thought Kavinsky was the solution to the self-hatred he wore as a second skin. He went anyways, curiosity winning it from his rational mind.

There were many possibilities as to what “your toy” could mean and they all flickered before his eyes as he rushed down the stairs. He mentally ticked of Chainsaw who was asleep in her cage and Gansey, the person Kavinsky had been most jealous about before he found out about his relationship with Adam, was in DC for another conference. 

Adam, however…

Adam was supposed to come to Monmouth after his shift, taking advantage of the empty factory while Gansey was gone and Noah was kicked to Fox Way. Since their relationship started they’d had only so many opportunities to enjoy each other, many of these simple pleasures indulged in between the walls of St. Agnes. But it was winter and as much as Ronan loved sex, he wasn’t keen on freezing his actual balls off. There was only so much cold and uncomfortable mattresses he could endure.

Adam was supposed to come to Monmouth and he wasn’t there. 

Adam still didn’t have a phone, even after Ronan’s many methods of persuasion. Adam dodged them as gracefully as any other time he tried to gift him something, which meant not gracefully at all. After the last big fight they had about this very subject Ronan had given up. He didn’t know which fight was going to be one that would do them under and Ronan wasn’t going to risk losing the person he had been agonising over for months. He had relented and Adam had kissed him hard enough to forget about the ordeal for a while.

Now, with Adam gone and Kavinsky in his messages he wanted to punch himself for not insisting, for assuming Adam was just working late again, for not calling Boyd’s when he got worried earlier because he was scared it would tick Adam off. The not-knowing was worse than whatever anger Adam could have released on him.

Ronan yanked at the front door, pulling harder as it got stuck at its usual place halfway through. The door flew open with more force than Ronan had put into it, a heavy weight falling against it that nearly knocked Ronan off his feet. He only had so much time to regain his balance before losing it all over again.

His heart fell to his stomach, the pounding of it the only thing he was able to hear for the few seconds his body remained frozen. His legs trembled almost as much as his hands as he crouched down next to the body of a boy that had fallen over the doorstep. 

Ronan knew this body better than his own, had seen it in every possible position and from every angle. He had worshipped his body like it had its own religion, over and over again with more dedication than he had put into the very church the boy slept above.

Adam’s head was lolling to the side, his mouth partially open. Ronan had seen him like this often, in bed next to him, with Adam’s arms around him to bask in the heat of Ronan’s body. The familiarity of it made blood streaming down his neck even more gruesome. 

Ronan put two fingers together and brought them to Adam’s neck, almost too afraid for the result to leave his fingers long enough to check whether Adam’s heart was still beating. 

It was there. 

There was no time to feel the relief that unfurled the tight knot that had formed in his stomach. With shaking arms he lifted Adam up and pulled him close to his chest, Adam’s head resting on his collarbone. 

Ronan didn’t know how much damage Kavinsky had done to him and he wasn’t planning on finding that out in the cold of the dark November evening. He should call an ambulance or bring him over to the hospital, but first he had to get him inside. 

Getting Adam up the stairs was taking longer than it should have but Ronan couldn’t stop staring at him. At the bruise already forming under his right eye, at his darkened jaw, at the split lip that was still bleeding. 

He didn’t even have it in him to feel angry at Kavinsky. Somewhere deep inside he knew the volcano of hatred was about to explode but until Adam woke up, it would remain asleep. Worry clouded his mind, fear gripped his body and held it tightly.

He couldn’t remember walking into the living room of Monmouth. He couldn’t remember laying Adam down and sitting next to him on the floor, holding his bruised hand as the tears welled up. His throat was broken in shards, breaking further every time he tried to swallow the sharp ache away.

He couldn’t break down now, he had to take action, do something, anything. 

But he was frozen on the floor, letting the panic wash over him in tidal waves that drove him farther from his rationality with every pull.

Adam made a sound so faint Ronan didn’t hear it the first time. He was too caught up in the black panic edging closer from the corners of his eyes. 

“Ronan,” Adam said more clearly now, moving his hand a little. Ronan felt him wince.

It was only then that Ronan noticed his own laboured breathing, how fast his heart was beating. Ronan tried to pull himself together. He was supposed to be the strong one in this situation, not the beaten up boy before him.

“Are you okay, Ro?” 

Ronan laughed but his breath hitched and it came out a little wrong, a little broken. He quickly wiped a tear away but Adam had seen it.

The colour was rising to Adam’s skin a little, making the freckles blend in more than they had before. He was still too pale but at least he was awake and conscious. 

Ronan didn’t know what caused his tears anymore. Relief? Anger?

Kavinsky’s text came to him again, the words imprinted in his brain. 

_ He was going to murder him. _

Adam squeezed his hand.

“What has he done to you?” Ronan asked but it came out as a snarl. The anger wasn’t meant for Adam, anyone but Adam. Ronan couldn’t hold back, though. There was too much hatred in his heart, too much anger in the empty fists he balled. He had unconsciously pulled his hand away from Adam’s, afraid of hurting him accidentally in the rage he couldn’t keep at bay anymore. 

Adam sighed. “I think you can see that.”

Anger was something that came naturally to Ronan. It was never a slow buildup, only the fast cracking of a whip. It came suddenly, taking everything around him with it in the explosion that followed. 

Ronan hadn’t noticed Adam was standing next to him, until he crumpled in himself, holding onto Ronan’s t-shirt sleeve as he fell. Ronan caught him mere centimetres from ground.

Adam’s arms wrapped themselves around his waist but there was no power behind it, not the usual tense muscles that held Ronan in a way that reminded him of home-cooked dinners at the Barns and the sound of his mother’s voice as she used to read him stories. 

Anger drained out of him as quickly as it came, leaving only an empty shell of himself standing.

Ronan buried his nose in Adam’s dirty blonde hair, breathing in the faint smell of citrus and earth that always seemed to linger around him, only now it was interrupted with the metallic smell of blood that was caked on his forehead.

“He did it because of me, didn’t he?”

Adam shook his head no but he didn’t speak. They had both known about Kavinsky’s jealousy streak but they underestimated how much damage he could do. They thought he wasn’t a threat, full of empty promises of harm he would inflict on both of them. Ronan vividly remembered how Adam had laughed in his face days before after yet another warning that one day he would snap and claim Ronan for his own. 

Adam wasn’t laughing now. He was swaying in Ronan’s arms, trembling with the effort of staying upright. Ronan lowered him back on the couch in a sitting position, crouching down in front of him. Ronan took his face in both of his hands and inspected the wounds that disrupted the smooth, freckled skin. A cut on his forehead, a black eye, a split lip, a bruised jaw. The rest of his body was hidden with the standard coveralls he wore to work but Ronan knew there must be so many more wounds and bruises underneath them. 

“Hey,” Adam whispered. Adam’s face was getting blurrier. He didn’t notice he was crying until Adam lifted a finger to the corner of his left eye and wiped away the wetness that had formed there. “We couldn’t have predicted this.”

“I should’ve been there,” Ronan whispered back. “I should have done something.”

“You didn’t know,” Adam insisted, holding onto Ronan’s hands. There were bruises on his fists. He’d fought back. Ronan didn’t want to think about how much worse he would’ve looked if he hadn’t.

“You were late, I could’ve called.”

Adam’s hands twitched. 

“It’s not your fault, Ronan.”

Ronan opened his mouth to protest. It was him Kavinksy wanted, him that didn’t take action when it was necessary, him that could have prevented this all by making a good decision in his life for once.

Adam stopped him with a finger on his mouth.

“It was Kavinsky who beat the shit out of me, not you.” Adam didn’t miss his wince. “You can’t do this to yourself.”

“I still want to kill him for this,” Ronan told him, his voice trembling with the poorly hidden anger that was welling up again. 

This was Adam Parrish, the boy who had been through too much already. Adam, who was usually strong and resilient, broken to fragility by a boy who was nothing more than blurry detail in Ronan’s past. Adam Parrish the boy he loved more than anything else in the world, the boy he couldn’t protect from harm even if he tried.

It wasn’t just anger that was setting the blood flowing through his veins aflame, it was the powerlessness that was threatening to rupture his already bleeding heart.

“I know you want to hurt him,” Adam said, soothingly stroking Ronan’s jaw as if he was the one that needed the tenderness now. “But I don’t want you to.”

His hand paused, warming Ronan’s skin to the point of boiling. Adam’s eyes were more expressive than usual, showing Ronan the inner-workings of his brain instead of hiding it between the thick walls he often still wore. His emotions were complicated, jumbled up in a big pile of sadness, anger, defeat, but also a neediness Ronan couldn’t place.

“What can I do?” Ronan asked, his voice edging on desperate. He would do anything for Adam if he asked him. He would lay down his own life with a wave of Adam’s hand. 

“I just…” Adam bit his lip. Ronan wiped away the blood that was starting to trickle down. “I need to feel something else other than pain right now.”

Ronan understood what he meant immediately. His first instinct was to say no. It was too dangerous, Ronan could hurt him even more if he wasn’t careful. But Adam’s eyes were big and pleading, his hands gripping Ronan’s shoulders tightly. 

Ronan leaned forward, inches away from Adam’s lips. Adam tried to sit up to capture Ronan’s lips with his own but Ronan held him back with two hands on his sides. Adam let out an annoyed sound but Ronan ignored him. 

Ronan lifted one hand to hold the not-bruised side of his face, keeping one hand on his side to keep him from moving. “Are you sure?”

Adam nodded and tried to move again but Ronan didn’t relent. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes,” Adam said, his voice edging on desperate now. “Please.”

As soon as Ronan removed his hand from Adam’s side, Adam was on him, kissing him fervently. Ronan tried not to recoil from the metallic taste that burst on his tongue as he swiped it across Adam’s bottom lip.

“Careful,” he said, before slowing down the kiss. “We have time.”

Ronan moved away from Adam’s mouth and instead brushed his lips along the bruises on Adam’s face. He slowly moved down to his jaw, lingering on the soft skin of Adam’s neck.

There were bruises that looked suspiciously like a handprint. A surge of hatred welled up in Ronan, the thought of Kavinsky’s hand around Adam’s neck enough to set his blood alight with white hot anger. 

“Ro-,” Adam croaked out, pushing Ronan head down to bury it further in his neck. Ronan bit softly at the skin between the bruise on Adam’s jaw and neck and licked the spot soothingly before sucking it into his mouth. Adam threw his head back and Ronan’s hand shot up to hold it, making sure Adam didn’t strain himself further.

When he was done there was a small hickey forming, a bruise of love among the bruises of hate that marred Adam’s skin. It would vanish before the other bruises did but Ronan felt better knowing that there was some place on his skin that showed how much Adam deserved to be loved, worshipped.

Adam was panting when Ronan moved further down, sitting back on his knees when he slowly undid the zipper on the front of his coveralls. The white shirt underneath it had red smears on the right side. Ronan had to swallow back the tears that were starting to form in the corners of his eyes.

Adam tried to sit up and help him take his shirt off but he fell back with a pained groan. Ronan rubbed his upper-thighs soothingly and told him to stay seated, he would do the work today.

Ronan gripped the sides of his shirt and lifted it ever so slowly, taking in the damage as he did. The purple bruises contrasted against his tan skin. The small wound on the side had luckily stopped bleeding. 

“Adam, this is bad,” Ronan breathed out. 

“Just keep going,” Adam pleaded, but Ronan shook his head.

“We need to take care of the wounds first,” Ronan said resolutely and got up. Adam protested weakly when Ronan carefully lifted him up with Adam’s legs wrapped around his waist, carrying him to Ronan’s bedroom where he sat him down on his king size bed. Adam was pouting when he left to look for the first-aid kit Gansey had insisted on after one too many fights Ronan had been involved in. He was silently thanking Gansey’s persistence now. 

Adam was annoyed when he came back, his eyebrows drawn together, and his arms crossed in front of his chest which looked pained more than pissed off. 

“I’ll be quick,” Ronan promised him. He put some alcohol on a cotton ball and pressed it to his lip first then moved to his forehead. His right side was next. Adam didn’t make a sound but Ronan felt his ragged breathing, the winces he let out with every annoying pinprick of the alcohol doing it’s job. Ronan hated hurting him even more but this was necessary and he held onto that idea before it drowned him.

Ronan moved to Adam’s hands, the very first thing he had noticed about him. Adam’s hands were the most worshipped part of his body. Ronan couldn’t remember how many times he had dreamed about those very hands doing sinful things to him and then watch it play out in real life. Couldn’t remember how many times he had kissed Adam’s dry knuckles and held them in his own with the same gentleness in which he held the dreamed up animals at the Barns.

He let the alcohol dry a bit and then carefully put some plasters where the wounds were deeper.

“Are you done yet?”

Amidst the concern and rage Ronan still felt coiling beneath the surface he felt some amusement rise up. Even obviously in pain Adam was the same demanding and bossy person he always was and Ronan would lie if he claimed it didn’t bring him relief. He didn’t know what he would’ve done if the Adam he knew was completely gone, brought to the very verge Robert had almost pushed him over. Ronan had saved him once and he could do it again.

Ronan closed the first-aid kit and shoved it off the bed. Adam let out a laugh despite himself but he crumpled in on himself immediately. Ronan shot forward to steady him. 

“Where does it hurt?”

Adam raised an eyebrow. “Everywhere.”

Ronan rolled his eyes but laid Adam down with the utmost care. “I get that,” he said raking his eyes up and down Adam’s body. “But where does it hurt the most?”

“My back,” Adam admitted, turning his head to stare at the wall. “My ribs too.”

Ronan gently laid his fingertips on his ribs, moving downwards slowly. Adam shivered underneath his hands. Ronan lowered his face to tenderly kiss over the bruises below his collarbone, sweeping a quick tongue over Adam’s nipple. He could just prevent him from shooting forward with a hand on his shoulder. Adam moaned loudly when Ronan closed his lips around the nub and sucked softly. Ronan kept sucking and lapping and Adam’s nipple, alternating between them, until Adam was thrashing letting out soft sounds.

Adam tried to guide Ronan’s head down again when he stopped but Ronan pulled his hand off and tangled it with his. “I need you to calm down first, Adam.”

The sound Adam let out was indignant. “That is the exact opposite of what we’re trying to achieve here.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you more,” Ronan confessed with his lips against Adam’s hand. He kissed his knuckles, his lips brushing over the plasters he had put there earlier. 

“Fine,” Adam sighed. He took a few deep breaths and balled his free hand in Ronan’s shirt. “I’m ready.”

Adam yanked him forward. It wasn’t with the power he usually possessed, the way he had, more than often, guided Ronan to where he needed him the most. Those times had been born from authority and demand, this time Adam pulling on his clothes to get him closer felt more like desperation for a gentle affection Adam never showed he needed.

Ronan gave in and crawled forward until he was hovering over Adam, careful not to put any of his body weight on him. He kissed Adam deeply, with enough passion to knock the breath out of the both of them. Ronan got rid of his shirt when they had to come up for air. Adam gratefully traced every inch of bare skin but Ronan felt how much he was straining, how much his arms were shaking from the effort of keeping them up. 

“Adam, baby…” Adam’s hips bucked against Ronan’s as he let out a strangled groan. Ronan stilled his hips. “Let me take care of you, okay?”

Adam nodded and moved to bite his lips but Ronan’s thumb caught his bottom lip, preventing him from opening his split lip again. He slowly stuck it further into Adam’s mouth until he began sucking on the digit. Ronan’s jeans grew impossibly tighter at the sight. He didn’t want to know how many Hail Mary’s he would have to pray to pay for imagining all of the sinful things he wanted to do to him.

Adam sucked hard on one and Ronan’s head fell forward on the bit of unblemished skin of Adam’s abdomen. Something inside of him caught fire.

He regretfully removed his finger and tried to ignore the sound of Adam’s mouth popping off it. Ronan quickly undid Adam’s shoes and threw them somewhere in the corner of the room. He zipped down the coveralls completely and glided the fabric down Adam’s body slower than he usually did. He was still overtly aware of the injuries on Adam’s body and tried to avoid them as much as he could. 

Adam was straining, making impatient sounds again. Ronan took pity on him and rubbed him over his boxers a little to relieve some of the pressure.

“I needed you to fuck me an hour ago,” Adam grunted out and Ronan laughed softly. 

“Soon,” Ronan promised and kissed his hipbone as an apology. He wanted to make Adam feel good, God knows he deserves it more than anyone, especially after what Kavinsky did to him. But they had to be careful, which was usually not something they did. Adam was rough and ready more often than not and in comparison, they were taking it agonisingly slow. Ronan was too afraid to go any faster, though. He would be the person Adam could trust with his body, the person Adam could trust not to hurt him and take care of him instead. 

Ronan slowly lowered Adam’s boxers, sliding them down his legs in one quick, smooth motion. He ditched the rest of his own clothes and crawled back up to Adam, kissing up the dark marks on his legs as he went, pausing on the pale skin of Adam’s inner thigh that wasn’t hit. He spent extra time there, trailing hot open-mouth kisses upwards until Adam was gripping his shoulder tightly, his nails leaving imprints in the tattooed skin.

Ronan brought one arm up, his hand splayed over his abdomen while his other hand was holding Adam’s hips still. His eyes met Adam’s as he went down on him in one go, something he had perfected over the months he had been with him. 

Adam threw his head back in a silent scream, his hands fisted in the blankets underneath him. Ronan wished he could capture this sight and keep it to look back at later instead of having to take in everything all at once. The way Adam’s hair was splayed against Ronan’s dark bedding, making it look like Adam was wearing a halo around his head. The way his neck was straining, his Adam’s apple bobbing obscenely with every swallow. The way his collar bones were standing out, one of Ronan’s favourite places to kiss him until he was a shuddering mess in his arms. 

Adam keened when Ronan started bobbing his head slowly, moving his tongue in intricate patterns during its route from base to tip. Ronan always loved the sounds Adam made during sex. There was something about watching him fall apart when he held himself together so well during the day that made the act that much more intimate. Especially now, when Adam was trusting him with his body while someone had treated him horribly only hours before.

Removing his hand from Adam’s chest to wrap around his erection while licking off the precum from the tip was the wrong move. Adam shot up from the jolt of pleasure that was coursing through his body, leaving him moaning from pain instead. 

Ronan pulled off immediately, moving up to lay down next to Adam, rubbing his chest soothingly. “I’m not sure we can keep going.”

Adam’s breathing faltered with each wince. His eyes were closed tightly, the lines on his face prominent. Ronan rubbed them softly until Adam relaxed a little.

Adam opened his eyes to look at him, to take in the concern that was splayed openly on Ronan’s face. Ronan never lied but he did keep secrets, sometimes even from himself. But he never managed to keep himself hidden from the prying eyes of Adam Parrish. Not when they were just friends and now, when they had seen the most intimate parts of each other, physically and emotionally, he was laid bare all the time.

Adam’s voice was strong through his still laboured breathing when he uttered Ronan’s name. Ronan had to close his eyes. He knew he would never deny Adam anything but there was a certain risk they were taking with this and he would rather ignore his aching erection than hurt Adam accidentally.

Adam was still looking at him when he opened his eyes again. He looked vulnerable, especially now, clutching his ribs. But his eyes were certain. This time when Ronan leaned up to kiss him, he let himself go a little, putting his hands on Adam’s entire body, brushing careful fingers over the vast expanse of skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

“I need you,” Adam whispered into his mouth and Ronan felt himself nodding, fulling giving over to Adam.

He retrieved some lube and a condom from his nightstand and threw it on the bed. 

Ronan paused, biting his lip. “I think you need to turn over to get some pressure off your back.”

Adam lifted himself up but groaned as he tried to turn himself around. Ronan’s hands shot out to help him, moving him until he was lying on his front. This wasn’t an unfamiliar sight, he had seen Adam laid out like this, begging for him, often enough. What was unfamiliar, though, were the almost black bruises on Adam’s back.

Hatred ignited in his stomach, leaving him with the desire to turn around Kavinsky’s neck and leave him in a ditch to rot. But Adam was in front of him and he was relying on Ronan to take care of him. So he took a breath, counted to ten, and made sure he didn’t put the anger he felt in his grip on Adam’s hips as he positioned him better. 

Ronan took extra care in warming the lube before gently pulling Adam’s cheeks apart, inserting one finger as slowly as he could. He could feel Adam straining to keep still, to not push back on Ronan’s finger like he had done many times. 

It didn’t take long before Adam was demanding another one. Usually Ronan would smirk at his impatience, joke about his neediness but today he kissed his lower back and did as he was told. 

Ronan leaned forward as he continued slowly pumping and stretching Adam with his fingers, murmuring little praises in Adam’s good ear. Adam was panting, his moans growing louder with every term of endearment Ronan let slip past his lips.

By the time Ronan had three fingers inside of Adam, he was shaking, clutching the bedding so hard Ronan was afraid it was going to rip beneath his hands. 

“I’m ready,” Adam choked out, his voice shaking almost as badly as his body. Ronan pulled his fingers out slowly and turned Adam’s face to kiss him but recoiled at the wetness on his cheeks.

“Fuck,” Ronan let out, panic rising from deep within him, gripping his throat. “Did I hurt you?”

His voice came out rough, trembling. The thought of hurting Adam, adding to the pain others had inflicted on him even if it wasn’t intentional, filled his body with shame, left his stomach churning.

Adam quickly wiped the tears away and got himself up, his face contorted in pain as he did. He held Ronan’s face in between his hands, willing him to look him in the eye. Ronan barely managed.

“It’s just the bruises, Ro,” Adam said softly. “Not you. Never you.”

“Tell me,” Ronan said, clutching Adam’s wrists. They felt fragile today. “When something is hurting, tell me, Adam.”

“I will,” Adam promised and Ronan believed him. He wrapped his arms around Adam and lifted him in his lap. He had to keep him from falling over but they managed, grasping onto each other, Adam to keep himself up physically, Ronan to prevent himself from breaking down mentally. 

“I’m not sure I can stay on my stomach,” Adam admitted, his head still buried in Ronan’s neck. Ronan’s finger tips ruffled through the hair on the nape of his neck, travelling upwards. Adam shivered in his arms.

“Your back isn’t a good idea either.”

Adam let out an agreeing hum, his body moving a bit impatiently against Ronan, seeking friction. They had taken it so slow, even slower than they had their first time, that they were both  _ aching  _ for some form of release, but Adam was aching more.

Ronan held him close and lifted him up so that he could put his legs underneath Adam’s body, shuffling them both back so he could lean against the headboard. “Does this work?”

Adam wrapped his arms around Ronan’s neck and nodded. Ronan reached for the condom that was almost falling off the bed and ripped open the package, quickly putting it on. He poured some more lube in his hand, spreading it over his cock, nearly weeping as he did. 

Ronan gripped Adam’s thighs, supporting him as he held his cock steady and began to sink down. Adam let out a shuddering breath when he was finally seated.

From this angle, Ronan could see every bruise marring Adam’s skin claiming it in hate and disgust. He wanted to put his hands all over him, covering up the bruises with his own body as if that could make them disappear. 

Adam tried to roll his body down but it came out stiff and stuttering. Ronan stilled him, with his hands strategically placed between sore places on his sides. He rolled his own hips upwards and Adam let out an appreciative moan at the feeling. 

The build up was as slow and drawn out as the lead up to the intertwining of their bodies. Usually sex with them was rougher, more wild, a time when they could let go of themselves in the comfort of each other. This time, however, it was soft and careful, but no less passionate. It was souls laid bare, feelings revealed in the intimacy of Ronan’s semi-dark bedroom. It was Ronan letting out tears, finally giving in to the emotions that had been building since he found Adam. It was Adam lovingly wiping the tears away with careful fingers, a soft glint in his eyes as he did. 

When Ronan finally hit the right spot, Adam arched his back involuntarily, crumpling in on himself immediately, falling right into Ronan’s chest. 

“Adam?” Ronan asked carefully, not daring to move. “Are you okay? Do you want to stop?”

Adam was holding onto his arms as if they were the only thing keeping him together. “No, I just…”

“Hey,” Ronan lifted Adam’s face a little so he could look at him. “Talk to me, remember?”

“I don’t think I can hold myself up any longer,” Adam admitted, his cheeks turning a shameful red. 

Ronan moved his hands, holding Adam’s back and the side that was left unharmed, stabilising him in his lap.

“Better?” he asked, smiling softly when Adam nodded, urging him to move with impatient hands tugging on Ronan’s shoulder.

Ronan started moving his hips again, keeping his movements languid, unhurried. Adam was making little sounds in his ear, clenching around him occasionally. Ronan groaned at the feeling. Adam had to contribute, even if it was Ronan’s time to take care of him. It was so characteristically Adam he had to kiss him, savouring the feeling of Adam’s lips on his. 

“Am I hurting you?” Ronan asked when he disconnected their lips. He had to make sure, he had to keep checking or he would go crazy with worry. Adam never wanted to be treated as fragile but this was not the time to take risks, to trust Adam to tell him when he was hurting. He had to ask and force it out of him with a pleading voice and desperate eyes.

Adam pecked his lips. “You’re not. It feels good, keeping going.”

Not before long Adam was panting in his mouth, letting out moans continuously. Ronan was afraid of pounding into him harder like he knew Adam wanted him to. 

Ronan stilled and Adam let out a groan so frustrated it made involuntary laughter bubble up in his chest.

“Hold onto me,” Ronan said, guiding Adam’s arms around his neck. When he rolled his hips up into Adam this time, he let go of Adam’s side, holding one hand on his back to keep him steady, and wrap his hand around Adam’s cock, pumping it in time with the motions of his hips.

“Fucking finally,” Adam whispered and Ronan smiled into his hair.

When Adam tipped over the edge, he was shuddering in Ronan’s arms. He clenched around Ronan so hard he nearly tipped over himself but then Adam bit his shoulder and he let himself go.

His orgasm was as drawn out as the sex had been, not the blinding white light he usually saw, but a soft glow that made time feel endless. 

They kept their arms around each other, neither willing to pull away just yet. In due time, Ronan would lift Adam off of him carefully and run him a bath to wash off the fluids that had cumulated on his chest. He would then get in himself, Adam’s back against his chest, resting until it was time to change the bandages and sleep it off.

The next morning Adam would feel the ache of the injuries even more and Ronan would be there to take care of him because the hospital was never an option in Adam’s eyes unless it was life-threatening. Ronan would gently force him to take time off work and Adam would comply, more shaken by the ordeal than he was willing to admit.

They would both think about what would happen on Monday, when they had to face Kavinsky again. They would both imagine how Ronan would react and how Adam would react. They would both hope Kavinsky didn’t show up because Ronan was afraid of what he would do and Adam was afraid of what he would feel.

But for now, they were relishing in the warmth of each other’s bodies, holding on for comfort, for safety, for hope. 

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> im also on[tumblr](clawsnbeak.tumblr.com)!


End file.
